


Unremember

by procrastinationfairy



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Gen, because i'm not sure where i'm going with this, but for now it's just going to be drabbles for each of the girls, i miiiiiiight add more about that later, very very very vague hints of senshi/shitennou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinationfairy/pseuds/procrastinationfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It left a feeling in the back of the head, something that can't be forgotten but yet unremembered.  She almost wished for it to stay that way.//drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unremember

Ami wasn’t sure when the nightmares started.  She just knew that lately when she woke in the middle of the night, there was a burning in the back of her throat, not bile, but more like actual fire, burning her from the inside out.  Ami had always considered fire to be safe.  Of course, she would never touch it, but fire reminded her of Rei.  Rei was calm and steady, but crackling and angry.  She burned only those who through themselves into her path and deserved her wrath.  Rei would never hurt Ami.  Fire would never hurt Ami.

Still, she found herself heaving on the edge of the bed, the short blue strands of her hair sticking up uncomfortably or clinging to her sweaty face.  Her breaths came out shakily, almost as if she was sobbing, she thought, until she realized she really was when tears trickled down her cheeks.  Ami blinked them away and pushed herself back up.  She pulled her tank top up, for it had slid low in her sleep, shuffled with her pajama pants, before pulling her comforter back up and curling into the sheets.

Ami would not tell anyone of these nightmares.  They were her burden alone.

How was she to tell her friends of that sick, burning feeling, the one that she, the Soldier of Water, could not put out?  How was she to tell them of that horrid, despicable (but sweet and beautiful, so hauntingly beautiful, like that piano refrain she occasionally heard from a practice room at school late at night, when only she was supposed to be there) voice that taunted?

How was she to tell them of the voice that knew her worst fear?

Ami could never confess this fear to anyone.  She had no idea how it knew.  It was a stupid, horrible fear, one that brought with it so many complications to her perfectly planned life.  Yet the voice knew everything about the fear.  The voice knew why she hated that fear with her life.

“A soldier?  Scared of blood?” it said.  Even the thought of the voice felt like claws down Ami’s spine, cutting into her skin and ripping her apart.

Ami was terrified of blood.  Ami wanted to be a doctor.  Doctors could not be hemophobic, certainly not to the extent that she was.  Ami tried to rationalize this fear away, but it did not work.  She was too terrified of blood to even look at it.  She could never be a doctor.  She could never confess this to anyone.  But what would she be if not a doctor?  What was she?

“You’re just a soldier, Mercury,” said the voice.  “You will always just be a soldier.  It’s carved into your soul.”

The words felt weird.  As if it meant something.  As if it was something she should know, something she’d forgotten.  It left a feeling in the back of her head, of something that can't be forgotten but yet unremembered.  She almost wished for it to stay that way.

Sometimes, she whispered the words ( _I am a soldier, forever a soldier, the Soldier of Water, Sailor Mercury_ ) when she was alone.  They left a burning sensation in the back of her throat, not quite bile, but more like some sort of curse she didn’t even knew she beared.


End file.
